Opium Dream
by Funara
Summary: AU, HxK, KxK, giftfic for kitsunelover. After a civil war, Kurama, a former noble, sacrifices his pride to become a geisha. As he begins to adjust, the most difficult question arises as a choice between two lovers. His decision may alter a nation...
1. Stranger

**Opium Dream**

Chapter one: Stranger

By Funara

_Notice: Below are the notes from when "Opium Dream" was published as a one shot. It has now been expanded and revived and will be continued as a chapter fic, thanks to the urgings and encouragements of certain acquaintances of the author's. The text in this chapter has been left untouched from when it was a one-shot, but the formatting has been changed slightly. _

_In other news, this story is a gift-fic for **kitsunelover**._

Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me. They belong to the godlike mangaka Togashi Yoshihiro. The plot of this story does belong to me, though, so please don't steal it. Though I doubt anyone would want to.

Notes: First off, if you didn't see this in the summary, it's shounen-ai, and it's Hiei/Kurama. This also contains quite a bit of cursing, just to let you know. Oh, and it's an AU one-shot. Hmm…I think that's all. This actually came out fairly close to what I was aiming for, so I'm reasonably pleased. Enjoy!

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

The Republican Army had won.

Kurama didn't know what he had been expecting or what he had been hoping for. True, his family had received its wealth and status in their small country through the systems of the old government, but for years now, the deteriorating dictatorship's policies had only hindered progress and trapped Gandara in the past. Perhaps he, as a youth, had been hoping for a revolution.

In any case, regardless of what he might have wished for or not, rebels, angry at the failing economy and nationwide shortages, had gathered their forces into the Republican Army and managed to take the capital and overthrow the emperor. The capital and its outlying suburbs were devastated by fire and warfare, but the rebels had won.

Now, as they sought to piece together a temporary government, they were faced with the problem of funds. And Kurama, as head of one of the nation's richest families, could no longer affect such a light, contemplative neutrality.

They had ordered him to appear before their makeshift council and account for his "crimes." Kurama wasn't surprised—he knew that although he had carefully maintained a position of neutrality throughout the revolution, the rebels would nonetheless target his family because they had been prominent during the reign of the fallen autocrat. The trial had been short, the verdict predictable in every aspect but one: he was not to be imprisoned, though his assets were to be turned over to the government. Kurama supposed they had too much on their hands to consider someone who had never been very politically active.

There was the question, now, of what to do. Kurama pondered the situation as he walked down the slushy roads, heading to a carriage that would take him back to a home that no longer belonged to him. He was not upset; he had foreseen this outcome when news had reached their manor, twenty miles from the capital, that the emperor's forces had surrendered. He had given relatives and servants alike what he could, though the war had destroyed most of their property. He could do nothing more than to let them fend for themselves.

Kurama pulled his cloak closer around him, unsuccessfully trying to keep out the harsh wind. He would be nearing his carriage soon, where he would at least have more cover, if not more warmth. He trudged on.

But the carriage wasn't there. Kurama stood still for a moment, looking at the spot where it had been a few hours ago. He shook his head and sighed, more exasperated at himself than distraught. He had been so used to others honoring the emblem on the carriage door and preoccupied with the trial that he had forgotten what kind of people now controlled the capital. He had not even stabled his horse.

Kurama made a decision and continued down the road. Might as well keep going and hope for the best.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Wet snow had begun to drift down half an hour ago, but Hiei didn't care. He had built up a resistance to cold, having been born in the mountains. So long as he could still see where he was going, he would be fine.

A door near him opened, and a drunk staggered out, supported by an equally inebriated comrade. Raucous laughter emanated from the hallway behind them, fading out when the heavy door closed. Hiei recognized their uniforms—soldiers in a regiment that sometimes mingled with his. Though, really, they could only be soldiers of the Republican Army. No one else in the city frequented such places now.

Hiei walked past the pair without sparing them a glance. He had seen plenty of it since he had joined this army—every time they set up camp, his fellows would head for the nearest bar or bordello. That didn't mean he joined in, or that he gave a damn when they got into trouble. Let them fend for themselves.

He hadn't become a militant to fool around. He had been restless at home, unwilling to live quietly. Even the dangers and difficulties that came from living in the mountains—thieves, predators, avalanches—were not enough for him. So he'd joined the rebel army.

The Republican Army had been fighting the emperor's troops for nearly two years. During that time, Hiei had enjoyed the thrill of battle and come to savor the respite between conflicts. Now, though, the rebels had won. There had been little to no combat in the past few weeks. Hiei found himself restless again, walking the streets, searching, always searching, for a missing purpose.

The snow was falling steadily now. Hiei realized that with only the light from occasional windows, he would not be able to see well enough to return to the barracks. He would have to wait out the storm somewhere.

He turned to the nearest door, opened it, and entered.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Kurama looked up at the sky, the thickly falling snowflakes obscuring his vision. There was no telling when it would let up, and wandering around outside would only exacerbate the condition of his freezing limbs. He had to find shelter.

His best bet was to find a decent looking inn and stay the night. Up ahead, he saw the flickering light of a glass lantern. Good; if they could afford to use a lantern when most of the city had not a stick of firewood, they must be have some sort of revenue, and therefore, a suitable room. Kurama hoped he was right, as he pushed open the door.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

The first thing Hiei noticed as he entered the room was the smoke drifting around. It rose to the ceiling lazily, fanned by movement, and stayed there until it slowly dissipated away. It wasn't the clean smell of natural wood, but the pungent odor of indulgent vice. Opium smoke.

Hiei chose a table as far from the ring of opium smokers as possible and sat down. A few minutes later, an old woman wearing a gaudy, outmoded dress, with hair dyed black, approached him, sizing him up. Probably the proprietor of the place, wondering how much she could make off of him. She didn't realize he was a soldier; he wasn't wearing his uniform.

"What can I do for you, sir?" Her most catering voice, no doubt.

Hiei regarded her for a moment. "A bottle of warm sake."

The old woman raised an eyebrow. "Is that it, sir? A fine young man like yourself needs more than sake to warm himself up on a cold day! I have a better idea, "she said, her voice becoming secretive. "We'll get you a pretty girl who could warm you up better than any sake! How about it?"

Hiei narrowed his eyes in disdain and dislike. He hated those who served the basest of human instincts, ignored their coarse suggestions, never accepted. "I asked for a drink, not entertainment," he replied coldly.

She stared at him for an instant, then shrugged, dropping her oily demeanor. "Your loss. " She left to retrieve his drink.

The door opened, and a band of common-looking young men entered, laughing and yelling, out of place in the drowsy atmosphere. "Oi, oi! Don't shove me! Old lady! Where's the old lady?"

Hiei watched them troop up to the old hag, who had stopped, in the middle of carrying Hiei's drink back to him. "Hello boys, " she said, apparently familiar with them. "Your girls are all ready. Just go upstairs—you know the way." Her customers disappeared up the staircase.

The old woman walked to Hiei's table and set down the bottle of sake and the small cup, her attention directed towards the upstairs the entire time. When she heard the sound of conversation and laughter, she smirked satisfactorily and left to tally up their bill.

The sake was of average quality and lukewarm, but tolerable. Hiei sipped it silently, observing the opium smokers as they sucked on their pipes.

When the door opened again, a short while later, Hiei's eyes flickered towards it automatically. It was a lone person this time, with cloak pulled tightly around him. He looked around and settled on a table next to the staircase. The stranger sat down with his back to Hiei, and removed his cloak, letting long scarlet hair trail down his back.

Hiei raised an eyebrow in surprise. The luxurious mane of hair left little doubt that this was a member of the former nobility. He wondered momentarily how such a person had managed to wander into this slovenly part of the city.

Hiei's attention was diverted from this topic when he saw the old proprietor approach the stranger. Her demeanor was the same unctuous one she had used with Hiei, and her offer seemed to be the same, as she leaned in close to whisper in the redhead's ear. Unfortunately for her, from the expression on her face, it seemed her offer had been refused again. She scurried off to bring him a drink, and Hiei resumed watching the opium smokers, one of whom had fallen asleep still smoking.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Kurama took small sips of tea from the cup, wishing it were hotter. He had considered ordering sake, but he figured he needed to keep his wits about him in a place like this. Tea was safer.

The red-haired young man turned his attention to the opium smokers relaxing on various mats and chairs near the front of the room. Personally, he had no interest in smoking the drug, but his natural curiosity arose from the fact that he had never been in an opium den before. The long pipes, ending in clay bowls, the intricately carved opium lamps, all of it was new to him. He observed them until the sound of thundering footsteps broke his reverie.

A group of rough-looking young men paraded down the stairs next to his table, almost all of them accompanying a girl. So this was a brothel as well as a bar and opium den. Most of the men were teasing one of their companions, a tall, slightly hunch-backed fellow with lank black hair and a gloomy expression. From their conversation, it sounded like his girl had gotten angry at him and locked him out of her room.

"Kamashiro, that's pathetic. We set you up with a nice girl, but you make her mad! How are we supposed to—"

"Yeah, buddy, be a man! You shoulda broken down her door or something and—"

"Aww, c'mon guys, give him a break. Just let the poor guy alone."

Kamashiro's countenance didn't change through all of this.

Suddenly, one of his friends spotted Kurama, who had been watching their progress down the stairs. "Oi! Look at that beauty down there, Kamashiro! You don't need that other girl! Just take that one!"

"You idiot," interjected a lanky boy, "that's a not a girl; that's a guy. How drunk are you?"

"He's feminine looking, for a man," said the girl draped over the lanky boy's arm. "Why don't you ask him whether he's a man or a woman?"

"I don't think so," her partner answered, slipping an arm around her. She giggled.

"He should come join us," interposed a shorter, oily-haired man. "The more the merrier, right Sakura?" He leered at the nearest prostitute as the group continued down the stairs.

The young men and their partners reached the bottom of the stairs and continued through an archway across from the bottom of the stairs. However, one of them broke off and approached Kurama's table.

"Hey buddy, wanna join us? A guy shouldn't be drinking all by himself, y'know. This place's got a lot of pretty girls to keep a guy company."

Kurama blinked a moment in surprise. He had expected the other to accost him in a drunken manner, but instead, he'd shown a polite demeanor. Perhaps the commoners were more decent than he'd thought. Still, he wanted to be alone, not to join them.

"I'm sorry, but no thank you."

"Are you sure? We're all honest guys, you know, just in case you were thinking that we'd rob you or something—"

"Oi, Touji!" The tall young man, who had previously corrected his friend about Kurama's gender, appeared in the archway. "Ginzo and Yamato want you to drink with them."

"OK, OK, Souzo, tell them to hold on. I'm talking to this guy over here." He turned to Kurama. "Well, anyway, sorry for bothering you. I'm around people a lot, so…well, it seems a little weird for me not to hang out with the guys. But whatever you want. See you, buddy."

Souzo, who had ambled over to listen to their conversation, nodded and turned to leave, as Touji's back disappeared through the doorway. But his eyes caught on Kurama's cloak, embroidered at the collar with his family name. His eyes narrowed.

"Ah," he said softly, "so you're an aristocrat. Explains why you wouldn't want to join us." His gaze had gone from indifferent to cold.

Kurama raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised at the change in attitude. "Not at all. I merely wanted to be alo—"

"Oh, don't give me that bullshit. You're an aristocrat, and we're just lowly commoners, aren't we? Separation of classes, easy and simple."

Kurama looked him in the eye. "I'm not an aristocrat anymore. My assets have been taken away from me."

"So? You supported the emperor in the war. You didn't have to suffer at all, while we—"

"You don't know anything about suffering, bastard. So I suggest you keep your mouth shut." The voice came from behind.

Souzo wheeled around to face the speaker, a short, dark haired, muscular young man sitting at a table near the wall. The stranger's expression was contemptuous.

"Who the fuck are you?"

"Doesn't matter. Just shut up, because you have no idea what the hell you're talking about."

Souzo strode over to him and glared at him. "Why don't you keep your fucking opinions to your own fucking self? Nobody wants to hear them."

Hiei smirked. "They're worth more than your pointless talking."

Souzo snarled and drew back a fist, but Hiei was faster. He struck the young man, a square blow on his face, and he flew into the wall next to the archway.

Hiei was still standing when Souzo's friends rushed out. Realization dawned first on a sandy haired boy.

"You bastard!" He lunged at Hiei, drawing his fist back to punch him. Hiei dodged quickly and kicked out at his stomach. The boy crashed into his friends.

"Son of a bitch, you'll pay for this!" Several of them unsheathed knives and rushed at him. Hiei narrowed his eyes and cocked his fists, prepared for them.

But before any of them reached him, there was a sharp crack! and the smoke of a discharged gun. Everyone's head jerked towards the direction of the noise, and the old woman appeared, furious and with a rifle.

"Get out, all of you. I won't have this in my establishment. Get out. You hear me? Get out, right now!"

The young men backed off and looked at each other, unsure of what to do. When the old hag cocked the gun, though, they hastily picked up their unconscious companions and left. Hiei folded his arms over his chest and watched them go.

The old lady looked at him. "And what about you, boy? I meant you too. Get out of my bar."

Hiei's eyes slid to look at her.

"Fine then—let me help you leave." She aimed the gun again.

She wouldn't shoot. Hiei was sure of it. "I want to stay here overnight. I want a room."

The old woman snorted and put down her gun. "You think I would actually say yes? After you fought with my best customers and terrified my girls? Keep thinking that."

Hiei wasn't fazed. "I'll throw one of your girls out of hers."

She looked at him, trying to see if he was serious. He was. What little sense of chivalry he had did not apply to women who sold themselves to a different man every night. "Fine," she said, after a pause. She turned to the frightened looking girls behind her. "Lotus, sleep in Pearl's room tonight."

Hiei smirked, satisfied, as he watched the girls being herded off. He turned back to his table.

The old woman had not yet disappeared up the stairs when another voice called out. "Ma'am, I need a room as well. I intend to stay the night," said Kurama.

She didn't even bother turning around. "This isn't a boardinghouse—sleep with your little savior if you want to stay!" The old lady continued up the stairs.

A brief silence. Kurama glanced uncertainly at the spiky-haired young man, who had, one way or another, saved his hide. Room with him? He didn't know if he should actually ask the shorter boy.

Hiei sat down at his table, turning from the other's gaze. He'd heard what the old hag had said, and under normal circumstances, he would refuse. He generally disliked the company of others, and his fellow soldiers, perhaps sensing this in his demeanor, usually left him alone.

However, this time, Hiei knew that he could not refuse. By interfering in the dispute, he had shifted responsibility for the stranger onto himself. Even if he had only intervened because he hated arrogant fools who believed they understood war. He would have to finish what he had started.

Strangely enough, it didn't displease him. It was almost a feeling of anticipation that slipped through him, the feeling of a decision that had been made before one had even begun to ponder it.

Hiei stood up quietly and set his empty sake cup down next to the slender bottle. There was nothing more to do downstairs. He might as well claim his room before the proprietor changed her mind. His gaze wandered the room for a moment, before meeting Kurama's. He nodded his head briefly in the direction of the stairs, and Kurama rose to follow him.

Kurama kept his gaze on the back of Hiei's head as he walked up the stairs, cloak bundled under one arm. His "savior" was handsome, certainly, with pale skin and burnished red eyes, but Kurama didn't know whether to trust those crimson eyes, which seemed to radiate so much contempt. The stranger had, however, helped him. He could at least reciprocate by trusting him.

The top of the stairs led to a rather narrow hallway lined with doors and lit by lanterns. One of the doors had been left open, the room recently vacated. A single lantern had been left on the floor in the corner, several feet from a futon. A small dressing table, covered with jars, bottles and brushes, was tucked into another corner.

Hiei entered the room first and went around to the other side of the futon. He sat down on the coverlet and pulled off his black boots. Kurama hesitated before kneeling on his side and spreading his cloak over the blanket for extra warmth. He glanced dubiously at the sheets.

"They're clean." Kurama looked up quickly, as Hiei got up to put his boots next to the wall.

"Are you sure?"

"They have to be. It's a rule of hygiene for places like this."

Kurama nodded and paused before asking, "What's your name?"

"Hiei."

"I'm Kurama." Hiei made no motion. 'Thank you for helping me."

Hiei shrugged indifferently.

Kurama continued, "You helped me, so I'd like to pay my debt by helping you. Is there anything I can do for you?"

Hiei regarded him for a moment. Kurama wondered briefly if his question had sounded out of place to him, as it had to Kurama himself.

"No."

Kurama exhaled quietly. "All right."

The room was quiet as each of them climbed into the futon, careful not to make contact, and settled the blankets and sheets around himself.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Hiei woke up a few hours later, feeling oddly warm. Moments passed before his sleepy mind realized that there was another body wrapped around him, an arm around his waist, and a head resting on his collarbone. Soft red hair fanned out over his pillow.

Hiei was used to rooming with others, but the others that he roomed with rarely shared a bed with him, and if they did, were well disciplined enough not to cuddle up to a complete stranger. They did not seek human warmth, did not need it. Supposedly.

Hiei watched Kurama sleep quietly, unaware of his position. Gently, he placed a hand on his cheek. He had not had a chance to examine him closely, since he had been sitting behind the redhead. Hiei studied the long red hair, a different red than his eyes, and wondered what color Kurama's eyes were. He stroked his cheek lightly.

Kurama stirred in his sleep and slowly opened his eyes, glorious green ones, darkened by the lack of light. In a moment, he noted his own position and blushed, trying to pull away. Hiei stopped him with a hand on his arm.

"You said something about paying me back, didn't you?" Hiei's voice was quiet. "There is something you can do for me."

Kurama didn't protest as Hiei's hand slipped behind his head, and he even tilted his head up a little before Hiei kissed him. Kurama's arms wrapped around Hiei's back as he turned toward Kurama. They kissed for an eternity, soft, chaste, before they separated.

They said nothing. Their quickening breath was evidence enough, and when Hiei locked gazes with Kurama, the yearning expression in his eyes gave him all the permission he needed. This time, the kiss was more urgent, more heated, and Hiei slipped his tongue between Kurama's lips, teaching him to open his mouth. When he did, Hiei touched Kurama's tongue with his own, continuing to kiss him.

Floating in a sea of tenderness, a sky of intimate feeling. But this was no opium dream, created by drugs. This was real.

Hiei pulled away from Kurama's mouth, smiling a little at his murmur of protest, and instead kissed the area behind his earlobe. He trailed his lips downward, pausing to kiss the pulse in his throat, and licked down his throat and around the base of it before kissing, hard, the junction between shoulder and neck.

And then he pulled away entirely.

Hiei put a finger over Kurama's lips when he opened his mouth to protest. "My help isn't worth any more than that." He brushed his cheek lightly with his lips before turning around. "Good night."

Kurama stared at his back before pulling away resignedly. Hiei was right.

Downstairs, the opium smoke wafted outside when the door was opened, mingling with and fading away in the heavy snowfall.

—to be continued—


	2. Morning After

**Opium Dream**

Chapter two: Morning After

By Funara

Disclaimer: Don't own it. And by it, you know what I mean.

Notes: Like I said in the new notes for chapter one, "Opium Dream" has now become an ongoing story. I'll probably regret trying to write two chapter fics at the same time, but it's too late now. To reiterate, this is a gift fic for **kitsunelover** and will be her present for however many holidays pass before I finish this. This includes your birthday, kitsunelover. And because this is for her, Karasu will be playing a prominent role in this story. So, that means Hiei/Kurama _and_ Karasu/Kurama.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

The next morning dawned cold and bright, the white sun hovering in the sky, but offering no warmth. The snow had stopped in the middle of the night, but the effects of its accumulation—fresh new white covering the dark brown slush—would make it difficult to go anywhere, especially given the ice frozen beneath.

Hiei sat on the edge of the futon, pulling on his boots. He didn't need to look through the almost imperceptible cracks of the boarded up window to know what the streets would look like, how innocent the entire scene would appear underneath the blanket of white. He'd had enough experience of snow—both in his mountainous homeland and here, in this ruined city—to picture it accurately.

Boots strapped and buckled, the black-haired soldier fastened his cloak. He picked up the short sword that he always carried with him—hidden in his cloak, away from the proprietor and his bedmate. At the thought, Hiei glanced at the latter, who was still sleeping, back turned towards him, long red hair trailing over his shoulder.

If they had been back in the barracks, Hiei would simply have left, as he, unlike many of his fellows, had felt no obligation to wake his bedmate. Besides, he usually rose far earlier than the rest of them did. However, given what had happened the night before, he was now tied to Kurama in such a way that he could not abandon him.

So he would have to come with him, at least for now.

Hiei placed one knee on his side of the futon, leaning over to lay a hand on Kurama's shoulder and wake him. He was surprised to find, though, that beneath the soft red hair that he moved aside, he encountered warm skin, rather than fabric. The young noble's robe had probably slipped off his shoulder while he'd slept.

The bare skin was soft beneath his callused fingers, and without thinking, Hiei leaned forward and kissed his shoulder. He drew back after a moment, feeling a strange satisfaction at the faint mark he'd left. Kurama stirred, waking up, and finally sat up, running a hand automatically through his hair. He turned when he caught sight of Hiei, already fully dressed.

Hiei felt a warm, pleasurable ache diffuse through him at the sight of Kurama, sleepy-eyed but still pretty, elegant robes off one shoulder, baring a good deal of chest, almost all the way down to his waist. Kurama colored slightly at the look in Hiei's eyes and pulled his robes closed, looking vaguely embarrassed. Hiei dragged his eyes away and stood up.

"Let's go. That old lady will be after us to get out."

Kurama nodded in silent agreement and began to get dressed.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Ten minutes later, they stepped gingerly outside, feet sinking through the new snow. Hiei had woken the old proprietor by banging on a table, something she had not taken kindly to, but she was slightly placated by Hiei's shoving some coins at her. She'd inspected them carefully before tucking them into her sash and turning her back on them.

Kurama glanced at Hiei. "Where are we going?"

"The army headquarters."

Kurama turned to him in surprise. "The army headquarters? You're a soldier?" Hiei gave the slightest of nods, preoccupied with finding their way around the snowy city, where most common landmarks had been covered overnight with precipitation. Kurama surveyed him thoughtfully.

It made sense. The only people left in the city were soldiers of the Republican Army, former nobles like himself, and the owners and employees of such places like the one in which they had spent the night. However, such a revelation presented difficulties for Kurama's hope that he could stay with Hiei, at least until he figured out how he was to survive from now on.

Kurama marveled inwardly at the thought. All his life, he had been restricted by his well-meaning parents and elders, who had maintained that the reputation of the family must remain spotless, perfect. And that meant he, as heir to that reputation, must be accomplished, resourceful, as flawless as he could manage. Now, though, he was free to do as he wished. Free even, to kiss a young man he barely knew.

Kurama glanced at Hiei's impassable countenance, wondering what he was thinking. And what he _had_ been thinking last night, when he'd kissed him. _My help isn't worth any more than that,_ he'd said and had pulled away, even though Kurama had not wanted him to, even though Kurama had wanted him to keep kissing and touching him like no one else had in a long while. Last night, before he'd fallen asleep, he'd thought of a dozen reasons why Hiei had stopped—perhaps he'd thought that what they had been doing was wrong, perhaps he had been drunk, perhaps he had thought he was taking advantage of Kurama. But this morning, he had been greeted by the sight of undisguised desire in Hiei's eyes. And on top of it all, Hiei _had _fought the gang of young men whose leader had been bothering Kurama. What were Hiei's intentions?

"This is the building." Kurama looked up. The headquarters of the Republican Army was located in a large building, made originally out of white marble with sweeping white steps and white pillars, though the steps were brown with mud now. The building had looked decidedly out of place, not only because of its whiteness, but because the design was taken from a western country the former emperor had visited.

Hiei began to climb the steps but looked back when Kurama did not follow him. The taller young man smiled at him. "I'll wait for you. I don't think your superiors would be happy to see me a day after they ordered my family's assets to be taken away."

"Fine." Hiei continued up the stairs, pulled open a door and disappeared inside.

Kurama watched him go and walked to the side of the broad stairs to wait for him. Every once in a while, a soldier would hurry past, anxious to get into the building. He had been surprised, earlier, by the revelation that Hiei was one of these people. Judging from his behavior in the bar, he had looked as though he wouldn't take orders from anyone. He was probably stubborn and headstrong, and Kurama was glad to have met him. He was far different from all the people he'd known in his life. It was staying with him that was going to be a problem. Kurama frowned, remembering his previous train of thought.

Despite all his thinking, he was fully aware that he could not reach a conclusion about Hiei's motives until he actually asked Hiei himself. As he debated when to do so, he remembered something else that had occurred to him: Hiei was a soldier with a job and pay. Kurama was currently unemployed. Moreover, Hiei's unit could be moved out of the city at any time, and Kurama had no idea if he could, or should, follow him.

"Goddamnit, Roto, walk faster. We'll all freeze waiting for you."

"All right, all right, hold on."

Kurama looked at the trio of soldiers climbing the stairs, two of them far ahead of the third. The lagging one was shivering violently in a thin jacket, while the other two were bundled up tightly. He wondered why they didn't give their friend one more piece of clothing—certainly even a scarf from the huge, bulky one would be adequate.

One of the soldiers, the one who hadn't called out to Roto, glanced in Kurama's direction and saw him watching them. Kurama thought he could see short, stiff blond hair that stood straight up under his hood. The blond soldier elbowed his thuggish companion and nodded towards Kurama. They sauntered over, ignoring their companion's shouted questions.

"Hello there," said the taller one, his ugly face splitting into a grin. His entire body seemed to be nothing but muscle—overdeveloped muscle like hunks of meat beneath his pasty skin. Kurama felt the urge to step back from him.

He nodded instead and turned his gaze towards the doors of the white building, signaling that he did not wish to talk.

The immense soldier was not discouraged. "I'm Gouki. This's my friend Zeru," he pointed to the blond-haired soldier, who was much shorter than himself, "and that's Roto back there." He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder.

Kurama nodded again, sparing him the quickest of glances.

"We were wondering if you wanted to join us. We're gonna go find somewhere interesting after we sign in at the office."

Kurama felt a sudden rush of déjà vu, and he was reminded sharply of the events of the night before. Gouki, oblivious, continued on. "You're all alone, so why don't you join us? We can give ya a good time." His grin came out as a leer.

Kurama felt a ribbon of apprehension and annoyance twist its way around his stomach. _This better not turn out like last night…_"I'm sorry. I'm waiting for someone."

"Well, then he can come too. Ain't like we're excluding anyone."

"We have somewhere to go."

Gouki took a step toward Kurama. "Where ya in such a rush to?" Out of the corner of his eye, Kurama saw his two comrades, the lagging one finally having reached them, closing in as well. Suddenly, Gouki grasped Kurama's chin and jerked his face up, causing a pain to shoot through the red-haired young man's neck. Their faces were uncomfortably close, and Kurama responded instantly, punching the taller man hard in the chest. He staggered back, shock evident in his eyes, but not seriously hurt.

Gouki narrowed his eyes, apparently thinking more of him than he had before and assessed him rapidly before chuckling darkly. "So you can hit back." He shifted his gaze to something over Kurama's shoulder and nodded.

Before Kurama could defend himself from Gouki's comrades, Zeru hit a sharp blow to the back of his head, and Kurama fell to the ground, unconscious.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

The main office of the Republican Army was located on the second floor of the white marble building. Hiei had stalked up the stairs, the place always putting him instantly in a bad mood, and opened the door of the third room on the right, not bothering to knock. The bad mood stemmed from the fact that undergoing this procedure reminded him he was constantly under the watch of someone else, and the penchant for not knocking came from the fact that the clerk inside knew him, unfortunately, and he was used to seeing Hiei, because Hiei often spent the night in places other than his barracks.

Hiei walked up to the table in the middle of the room and stood, looking down at the young, black-haired clerk who had fallen asleep at his desk. He coughed.

The young man's eyes opened immediately, and he sat up quickly, running a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry, sir, I got here early, and—oh. It's you." He quickly dropped his professional demeanor and relaxed. "What's up?"

Hiei raised an eyebrow. "Think, Yuusuke," he said dryly. "Why else would I force myself to spend time in your presence?"

Yuusuke faked a hurt expression but ruined the effect by propping his feet up on his desk. "You wound me, Hiei. After all we've been through, you—"

"Cut the crap, Yuusuke. There's someone waiting for me."

Yuusuke grinned, unfazed. "Geez, Hiei, always cranky and in a hurry. Who's waiting for you, anyway? I thought the almighty Hiei didn't _need_ friends." He pulled a piece of paper towards him and began filling it out.

"It's none of your business."

"Fine, fine. Where were you, and why didn't you return to the barracks?" he asked, ink brush hovering over the paper.

"I slept in a bar, because there was a snowstorm." Yuusuke nodded and wrote it down, then signed his name at the bottom and handed it to Hiei, who tucked it in his cloak. He turned to go as Yuusuke stretched behind him.

"Y'know, I'm surprised the generals don't get annoyed at you for spending so much time outside of the barracks."

Hiei snorted. "It's not as though every other soldier isn't doing the same."

"Yeah, I guess…oh, and speaking of generals, did you hear the news? Some big shots are finally coming to the capital—I hear they were the original leaders of the revolution and everything. Wonder if it's true."

Hiei put his hand on the door, impatient to leave. "Why should it matter?"

"Well, if they're really here to clean up and be leaders and stuff, then we could finally pull out and get our asses home. I mean, hell, we've been fighting for a long time now, dontcha think?"

Hiei stood still, his back to Yuusuke, no longer as hurried as he had been seconds ago. "Hn," he said finally, pushing the door open and leaving without another word. Yuusuke, who was used to his behavior by now, merely shrugged and tried to go back to sleep.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Hiei walked down the hallway and the formerly grand staircase at a measured pace, giving himself time to think. What Yuusuke had said was indeed news to him, and he wasn't quite sure what to make of it. A week ago—even a _day_ ago, he would have welcomed it, the opportunity to finally get out of this devastated city, even though it meant going back to the mountains, where there was little to do but farm and hunt.

A smooth departure was out of the question now. In one night, Hiei had successfully gained a liability and a responsibility. He was no coward, and once he embarked on a course, he would see it to its end, no matter what the consequences.

Though truth be told, he had not been thinking about any negative consequences when he'd kissed Kurama last night and this morning. It had seemed so natural, so instinctive, in fact, that he had reacted without thinking at all, both times. It had been a long time since he'd had a lover, and Kurama had not objected, even though they were both male, something that might have bothered others.

But maybe he _had_ been thinking of something—after all, he'd pulled away abruptly and without reason. Mulling it over as he'd tried to go back to sleep, he'd wondered why. He hadn't taken advantage of Kurama or done anything wrong, in point of fact. But he'd felt his subconscious urging him to stop.

Hiei shook off the questions, leaving them to be answered later, if necessary. He pushed open the tall wooden doors and left, eyes automatically sweeping over the snow-covered steps. They widened fractionally at what he saw.

Kurama was gone.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

The floor of the room where Kurama was held captive was made of wood—rough, cold and uncomfortable. When he regained consciousness, he found that his hands and feet had been bound and a wad of cloth stuffed into his mouth. He was facing the crude wooden door and could hear the conversation that was taking place beyond it.

"—fetch a good price. It's rare for them to—"

"—pretty one too. I know a good slaver who needs—"

"Why don't we keep him for a while? He'll be fun to play with." With a chill, Kurama recognized the voice as Gouki's.

"Play with? Oh, c'mon, it's not like you don't get the whores every night at—"

"Yeah, besides, did you see that cloak? He's a goddamn aristocrat or something."

Gouki chuckled. "So what? He'll be better than those cheap girls."

Kurama shuddered, not wanting to hear any more. Their conversation continued in a similar manner for a few minutes, interspersed with laughter, until abruptly, it stopped. Kurama lifted his head from the floor and listened questioningly, wondering what had happened.

Without warning, an explosion sounded outside, followed by the shouts and cursing of Gouki and his companions.

"What the _fuck_ is—" There was a gasp, as though someone had just been punched, then a grunt and a thud.

"H-hey, look, we didn't mean t—" Two more explosions cut off the speaker's plea.

"Who are these?"

"Saa ne. Where did they put that boy?"

Kurama drew back from the door, tense. Who was out there?

"There's another door here." Kurama watched as the doorknob refused to yield.

"It's locked."

"Move, then. I'll do it." There was the sound of boots clicking on wood.

The door smashed into pieces, the wood flying all over the room. Kurama dropped his head and squeezed his eyes shut, unable to shield himself with his arm. When the fragments had settled, he looked up.

Two men stood in the doorway, one of them braced in a fighting stance, his fist still in the follow-through motion after delivering a punch. He had long black hair and wore a deep gray cloak over robes of bluish gray, belted with a white sash. His eyes were closed, though not to shield himself as Kurama had. He was blind.

The man next to him also had long black hair, though his was better-kept and silkier. Purple eyes shone out of a face that was partly covered by a silver mask, and he wore a black cloak that completely covered his robes.

"Hello," this man said. "I am Karasu."

—to be continued—

Saa ne—I don't know.

Notes: It could have been better. I have a bad feeling that "Wildfire" is going to be neglected, but I'm going to try and work on both. Until next time!


	3. Unexpected Developments

**Opium Dream**

Chapter three: Unexpected Developments

By Funara

Disclaimer: You guessed right. I don't own it.

Notes: The title's not great, but I'm pretty happy with this chapter, on the whole.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Hiei tracked swiftly along the snow-covered streets, following the trail as quickly as he could. When he had noticed the multiple footprints gathered around the spot where Kurama had stood, on the steps of the army headquarters, he had traced them immediately. Hiei set his jaw grimly. Four sets of footprints had led to the spot, but only three had led away. He couldn't waste more time if he wanted to find Kurama.

As he turned into another road, Hiei paused and cursed silently. The tracks had been covered and crisscrossed by other, fresher footprints leading in all directions. The sun had been up for several hours; soldiers would be traversing the streets. Hiei bent to examine the snow, but to no avail. Frustrated, he backtracked through the alley and emerged on another road.

He glanced up and down the road, and in the same moment, saw a flash of bright red emerging from another side street. Hiei started, but sure enough, it was Kurama. But he wasn't walking by himself; in fact, he was being carried in the arms of a tall figure in a black cloak. Abruptly, Hiei felt a flash of jealousy as he saw the figure bend to whisper something to the beautiful redhead in his arms. He strode angrily towards them.

Kurama vaguely recognized the street they were on and told Karasu so, in response to his query of whether he knew where they were. Looking to the right, he suddenly saw a familiar figure approaching them. "Hiei?"

Hiei reached them in four more quick strides, and Kurama smiled at him, relieved to see him. "Thank the gods—we were just looking for you." The dark soldier said nothing but fastened his gaze on Karasu, animosity flickering in his eyes. Kurama frowned, but did not remark on it.

"You are a soldier of the army here." Karasu nodded towards the sheaf of paper in Hiei's hand and the seal it bore—a hawk clutching a scythe in one talon and a scepter in the other. "That is the seal of the Republican Army."

Hiei narrowed his eyes. "And if I am?"

Karasu was untroubled by the young man's clear dislike of him. "You can show us the way to the army headquarters."

"And why would I choose to do that?"

"Yomi and I need to speak with people there."

Kurama could see a refusal forming on Hiei's lips, and intervened. "Hiei," he said quietly, his tone asking him to cooperate.

Hiei's eyes flicked towards Kurama for a moment, and he felt his anger melt into disappointment and resignation. He turned away. "Fine."

Beneath his mask, Karasu smirked.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Inside the military headquarters, a soldier hurried towards them. "How may I assist you?"

Karasu did not answer him until he had located a long couch tucked almost under the staircase. After Kurama had sat down on it, Karasu turned back to the soldier. "We want to see your head general."

The soldier bowed and led Yomi and Karasu up the staircase, leaving Hiei to sit next to Kurama, his back towards the redhead.

Kurama examined his wrists and ankles, making sure the ropes had not caused any serious injury. He glanced sideways at Hiei when he had finished. From the moment he'd laid eyes on Karasu, Hiei's hostility had been apparent. He'd thought that Hiei had had a grudge against Karasu, but it appeared that they didn't know each other. And Kurama himself hadn't done anything to provoke the crimson-eyed soldier. Unless…his eyes widened. After scarcely a day of knowing each other, was Hiei _jealous?_

He appraised Hiei and decided that the only way he was going to know for sure was if he used the direct approach he'd been preaching to himself that morning.

"You know, Hiei," Kurama began finally. "Karasu and I aren't involved."

From the slight jerk of his shoulders Kurama knew he had his attention. But Hiei didn't turn around.

"So am I expected to believe that you and he weren't having a nice screw while I was away?" he asked sardonically.

Kurama was surprised at the bitterness of his tone, as though he had long ago resigned himself to things like this. "Yes, you are. Look Hiei, I just met Karasu. I wouldn't—"

"You just met me yesterday."

"That was different. You had just saved me."

Hiei finally turned to face him. "And what had Karasu done to allow him to carry you?"

"He and Yomi resc—" Kurama fell silent. Hiei regarded him for a few more moments before moving to turn away. Kurama grabbed his arm, and he stiffened. "Hiei, let me tell you the whole story and then you can decide to believe me or not. I was standing on the steps outside this building, waiting for you, when three soldiers came up to me. They asked me if I wanted to go somewhere with them, but I said no. One of them grabbed me, but I hit him. One of the others must have hit me, because when I woke up, I was tied and gagged and lying on a wooden floor.

"The soldiers were planning to sell me as a slave, but a while later, I heard explosions. My door was knocked down, and I saw Karasu and Yomi. They untied me and took the gag out. Karasu carried me out, because my legs were weak, and then we met you in the street. That's it. Nothing else."

Hiei was still watching him when he finished. He pulled his arm from Kurama's grasp. "The situation was not different from last night," he said quietly. "You would have done the same if he'd approached you."

"No, I wouldn't have," replied Kurama, equally quiet. "Why would I want to, when I already have _you_?" Kurama smiled a little at the look of astonishment on Hiei's face. "Not all nobles are promiscuous harlots you know…though I used to know quite a few of them."

Hiei said nothing for a long time, his expression guarded once more. When he eventually started to speak, he was cut off.

"Am I interrupting something?"

Both young men started in surprise. It was Karasu.

"No," said Hiei shortly, eyeing the masked young man with resurgent dislike.

"Good." Karasu took a step towards Kurama and pulled off his iron mask. "I have a request to make of you, Kurama. The general is holding a celebration tonight at the Unabara no Shinju teahouse. I would like you to come." Karasu's glance flicked towards Hiei. "Unfortunately, I cannot extend this offer to your friend."

Hiei shot him a cold and disdainful look. "I couldn't attend anyway. I have guard duty at the barracks tonight."

"A pity." Karasu shifted his attention to Kurama, expectant.

"I don't think that would work out. As a former noble, I doubt that the general will be pleased to see me."

"Their happiness is not my concern. They won't say anything if you are a guest of mine."

Kurama hesitated. _It's not like I have anywhere else to go tonight._ "I'll go. Where is the teahouse?" Karasu explained how to get there.

"You can arrive any time after dark. I look forward to seeing you there." He tossed a strange, slight smile over his shoulder and headed for the staircase.

Hiei stood up as soon as Karasu had disappeared from sight. "Where are you going?" Kurama asked. _I hope he isn't angry about what just happened._

"The stable. I need a horse to get to the barracks."

The mention of horses suddenly reminded Kurama of something he had to do. "Will they lend me a horse?"

"Why?"

"I have to go home and tell my family what happened at the trial yesterday."

"How did you get here without a horse?"

"I did have one. Both the horse and the carriage were stolen."

Hiei gazed at him, an inscrutable expression on his face. "I'll get two horses."

Kurama blinked. "You don't have to—" But Hiei was already out the door.

A while later, Hiei rode up to the front of the building leading a black and white speckled horse. Kurama met him at the base of the steps. Using the wide stone railing as leverage, Kurama mounted his horse and took the reins from Hiei. "Thank you."

"Hn." Hiei turned his horse to the left and prepared to gallop away.

"Wait!" Kurama's horse swerved abruptly in front of Hiei. "You don't have to run away every time I finish a sentence."

The sable-haired soldier raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Where will you be tomorrow?"

The eyebrow rose. "Why?"

"Because I want to borrow your boot shine," Kurama replied sarcastically. "Because I want to _see_ you."

Hiei 'hmph'ed softly. "Meet me right here then. Tomorrow morning, at sunrise." He nudged his horse and it trotted away briskly.

Kurama smiled, a wind ruffling his long red hair. When it subsided, he turned his horse around and rode towards his home.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

The atmosphere inside the Unabara no Shinju teahouse was familiar to Kurama, reminiscent of the dozens of parties he'd attended as the head of the family. Food and drink were plentiful and varied, and the guests usually spent their time doing whatever they wanted after a formal meal. Smoking opium quietly in a corner, engaging in conversation, watching the pretty, ubiquitous geisha sing and dance—these were the kinds of activities he'd come to expect at such gatherings.

Only a few hours ago, he had formally closed the chapter of his life that had required him to attend these events as a proud noble. The members of his family had accepted his tidings with grace—most had probably expected it. Kurama had separated between them what objects of worth they had left—not many, as soldiers had already raided their property during the war. He himself took nothing.

When they had finished, Kurama had gathered them in front of their grand home, and all of them, from the lowest stable-hand to Kurama himself, had spent a silent moment gazing upon what was no longer theirs. He had explained to them that they had to go their separate ways, for if the new government found that they were communicating frequently, they might suspect a rebellion and exile them. The members of his household had accepted this, once again with dignity.

Kurama wept no tears on the road back to the capital. A few miles down, he passed a group of officers riding in the opposite direction, heading to the place he had left, eager to take charge of the estate.

A woman sat down silently next to Kurama, surprising him out of his depressing reminiscences. After having eaten, he had settled himself against the wall with a cup and a bottle of rice wine. Nobody joined him; after all, he knew only one or two generals from his trial, and he doubted they would enjoy his company. He had caught glimpses of Karasu and Yomi, deep in conversation with another man. Kurama had idly wondered why Karasu had invited him.

"Hello," he said uncertainly to the brown-haired woman next to him.

"Hey," she replied, sipping from her cup. She was not dressed as elaborately as the other young woman—she wore a dark green kimono with a single pale pink flower near the bottom edge. Her sash was light green. Kurama could not help thinking that her subdued outfit was incongruous with her loose, sandy brown hair, and the look of lazy indifference in her eyes.

"Can I help you?" he asked politely.

She refilled her cup from Kurama's bottle before answering. "Kind of."

"How?"

Again she took a long time in answering. "My girls and I were wondering why you weren't joining in the fun."

The red-haired young man glanced at the crowd of officers and geisha, all of them jovial and cheerful. "There is no one here that I know well."

"Who invited you?"

"Karasu."

"Ah." She folded her legs beneath her. "You're not a soldier, are you?"

Kurama shook his head. "No."

"A noble, maybe?"

He laughed quietly. "You are observant. How did you guess?"

She shrugged nonchalantly. 'The way you carry yourself, the way you talk. We used to get a lot of nobility here before the war."

Kurama nodded. "And now you get soldiers."

"Uh huh. They're all the same, regardless of social position."

"Are you a geisha then?"

"Used to be. Now I just own this place."

"Retired at such a young age?" Kurama teased.

The sandy-haired woman chuckled. "What's your name?"

"Kurama."

"Shizuru. Kuwabara Shizuru."

"Hajimemashite, Shizuru-san."

"As cordial as the best of your fellows." Shizuru sipped her wine. "What will you do now that your kind are in disfavor?"

Kurama sighed. "I don't know."

"I'll make you an offer then." The redhead looked up in surprise. "Have you ever considered becoming a geisha, Kurama-san?"

The former noble choked on his wine. "What?" he asked disbelievingly.

Shizuru was unruffled. "Become a geisha. You certainly have the looks and charm to be a successful one."

Kurama stared at her. "Thank you, but…aren't geisha usually _women_?"

"Yes. Usually." She gestured toward a group of young women, one playing a long, stringed instrument, the others dancing. "One of those 'women' is a man."

He blinked and glanced towards them. "Which one?"

"Figure it out if you can. I promised not to give him away." As her companion studied the geisha carefully, Shizuru continued. "My point is that even without pretending to be a woman, you could be a well-known geisha. It's certainly one of the few non-military options available."

The slender redhead turned to her. "Maybe…but it's an extremely odd choice. Who would want to be…entertained by a male geisha?"

Shizuru cocked her head. "Difficult times call for strange choices. You can't be a soldier. What are you going to do, starve?"

Kurama gave a slight, resigned shrug, but he saw the pragmatism behind her words.

"And as for who would want you for a companion, you'd be surprised by how broadminded some of these men are. I'll bet you've met at least one already."

He flushed lightly before realizing an underlying meaning of what she had said. "And I would be expected to…lie with these customers?"

The young woman shot him a piercing glance. "That's your decision. I never force my girls to do what they don't want to. If you don't want to, don't. A lot of the people who come here just want some sympathetic company. They know my rules." When Kurama remained silent, her eyes softened a little, losing some of their bored indifference. "The notion of doing things with men isn't the most critical issue, is it? You're not as bothered as others I know would be."

Kurama shook his head. "I have never found issue with that. Recent events have…well…" he trailed off, a little smile on his lips. A moment later though, he frowned. "No, what bothers me the most, and I hope you're not going to be offended by this," he spared her a quick glance, "is that after living the life I lived, I don't know if I can adjust to being something…lower."

Shizuru laughed. Kurama looked up at the sound, startled. "You're an honest person, Kurama-san. Yes, a geisha is much lower than what you're used to, but we get the most respect these days." She untucked her legs and began to stand up. "It's your choice. I like you; you're a good person, and that's rare. I'm offering you a job and a home here at the Unabara no Shinju teahouse. In the end, you have to decide. Pride is hard to overcome, but at least you'll be doing it on a full stomach and under a roof, eh?" She moved towards the crowd of laughing officers.

The redhead gazed unseeingly at the scene before him, his thoughts distant. He had never before been offered such a strange opportunity. And it certainly was a blow to his pride to act in the place of a woman, especially considering what he had faced in the past. He wryly remembered his stepfather's shocked first reaction to seeing his long hair.

On the other hand, Shizuru had said that she never forced her geisha to do anything against their wills. He would not be dressed in women's clothing or made to sing or dance…in fact, he could probably just talk to the clients if he wanted. He might even be able to make true friends, something he had not had since he was small. Kurama wondered if he was crazy to consider this bizarre offer.

As he continued to weigh pros and cons, another figure settled beside him. Kurama looked up, half-expecting to see Shizuru again. But instead, he saw a man dressed in robes made of shining black material, with the emblem of the Republican Army stitched in red on the right sleeve. His long, silky black hair was barely distinguishable against the fabric. Only his violent eyes provided a vague contrast. Karasu.

"I apologize for not speaking to you sooner, Kurama. Both our evenings would have been pleasanter if we had been able to…speak…privately." The expression in Karasu's eyes made Kurama's stomach clench uneasily.

"It's fine; I spoke to Shizuru-san."

"Our lovely hostess?" There was little enthusiasm in the compliment.

"Yes. She made me an interesting occupational offer."

Karasu's eyes narrowed. "What sort of offer?"

Kurama was slightly taken aback at his tone. "She asked if I wanted to be a geisha here."

He relaxed. "I see." Kurama wondered what he had thought Shizuru had said. "And do you?"

Kurama leaned forward, his arms on his knees. "I don't know. Some aspects of such a career trouble me."

"Such as allowing the advances of other men?" The red-haired young man looked up, amazed at his directness. Karasu put one hand on the floor between them and leaned toward him. "There is a simple fix for unwanted attentions. I will make sure no one else ever touches you again." Before Kurama could react, Karasu grasped his chin and kissed him.

—to be continued—

Hajimemashite—Nice to meet you.

Notes: I'm not sure if I like the way I'm characterizing Karasu. Other than that, I think I've managed to balance the HxK and the KxK all right…it'll equalize later. Reviews?


	4. The Shape of Things to Come

**Opium Dream**

Chapter four: The Shape of Things to Come

By Funara

Disclaimer: Roses are red, violets are blue, these disclaimers are getting randomer, yet I own nothing but my drool. Aren't you all glad I don't write poetry for a living?

Notes: It's really been a while since I updated this…sorry! Over a month actually…but at least this chapter came out. People have been pressuring me…so you better appreciate this, pressurers! To everyone else, read, enjoy and review!

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

The hallways of the Unabara no Shinju teahouse were dark, the only light inside the rooms, glowing dimly against the opaque rice paper that covered the wood-latticed doors. Kurama navigated the vaguely familiar hallways as quickly and as silently as he could, attempting to go back the way he had come.

He didn't remember what excuse he had given when he'd left the room—something silly about needing some fresh air. He had been too caught up in the swell of dizzying emotions and erratic thoughts, and even now, he was too distracted to properly figure out what direction he should be going in.

It really was Karasu's fault.

Kurama paused in the unfamiliar hallway, listening for sounds. The silence was both a welcome relief and an unwanted medium for wandering thoughts, and the young man gave up his quest to clear his mind of the tangle of sentiments that had come with earlier events.

He couldn't remember feeling anything the moment Karasu had kissed him—he remembered very well his discomfort before and recognized his current inner turmoil, but as most people do during a significant event, Kurama did not recollect feeling any sort of shock when Karasu had grasped his chin and pressed their mouths together.

Not that it mattered—what was affecting him was more the aftermath of what had happened and his reaction. Kurama pressed the palm of his hand against his forehead, attempting to massage away the headache brought on by the torrent of unending thoughts.

He hadn't disliked it.

Therein lay his problem—he'd reacted to Karasu with the same passivity he'd shown Hiei. He had not pushed him away in disgust or horror or anything of the sort but instead had merely stayed where he was. He couldn't think if he'd enjoyed it—but he had not _not_ liked it.

And with that came the crashing guilt that pounded at him. He had already admitted to himself that he had begun to care for Hiei as he was beginning to know him, and yet, he had already dealt him a betrayal. Kurama rubbed at his throbbing temples again. Karasu had seemed so very sure of himself, while Hiei had held himself back. Kurama had no idea which he preferred.

A small lantern approached from one end of the hallway, and Kurama looked up in alarm. Standing up, he prepared himself to explain why he was wandering the halls—but it turned out he didn't have to.

"Kurama-san, what are you doing here?" The lantern-holder turned out to be Shizuru, looking slightly concerned and surprised. "I thought you'd gone outside."

The green-eyed noble stepped into the circle of lantern-light. "I was…but I lost myself among the passages here." He attempted a rueful smile, still emotionally drained.

Shizuru peered at him closely. "Do you want me to show you the way out?"

Kurama hesitated. He had nowhere to stay tonight and no means of getting anywhere.

"No, I take that back." Kurama looked up at Shizuru, who was regarding him seriously. "What you need is a room to yourself and maybe some hot tea to drink. Am I right? You're free to stay here for the night."

Kurama held her gaze before his expression folded into gratitude. "Thank you," he said simply. Shizuru nodded.

The room she lent him was bare except for a bedroll tucked into the corner and a lamp standing on the floor. Kurama was reminded of the room he'd spent the night before in, with Hiei, and he felt his throat tighten a little.

"No one will disturb you," said Shizuru. "There's no need to let any of the others know that you're staying here. Do you want some tea?"

"Yes, if it's not too much trouble. And…Shizuru-san," Shizuru looked back at him from the entrance, "thank you very much." Shizuru merely gave a little bow.

"Your tea will be here soon," she said briskly and slid the door shut.

But by the time she arrived with the hot liquid, she discovered that Kurama had already unrolled his futon and fallen asleep.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Kurama woke early the next morning, having remembered just before he'd fallen asleep that he'd agreed to meet Hiei in front of the Republican Army headquarters. He folded the futon and smoothed the wrinkles in his clothing as best he could. When the room was as neat as he'd found it, he opened the sliding door.

To his surprise, there were two things sitting outside his door: a bundle of clothing and a bouquet of flowers. He lifted up the clothing first, noticing that they were of good quality and warm. He smiled to himself; Shizuru had done a great deal more for him than he'd asked. Perhaps staying here would not be a bad idea.

He next picked up the flowers, noting with astonishment that they were silk-soft red poppies, bundled together in crimson velvet cloth. Kurama touched the petals gently, wondering why they were in bloom in the dead of winter, when they usually flowered in spring or fall. Who had sent them? Karasu? How had he known where Kurama had stayed the night?

Deciding to leave these mysteries for later, Kurama placed the poppies on the floor, the clothes draped over his arm, and shut the door again. He quickly changed into the clean shirt and white pants, noting with amusement that the deep green of the tunic shirt matched him very well. He bundled his old clothes neatly and tucked them into his sash.

In a much clearer mindset than the night before, Kurama found his way easily to the main entrance. Nobody was up yet, so he found a piece of paper, a brush and a black-ink pot and quickly dashed down his thanks. When he'd finished, he slipped out the door, heading towards the army headquarters.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

When Kurama arrived at the white marble building, the sun had already risen, and Hiei was leaning against the railing of the marble staircase, the reins of a restless horse in one hand. He looked up at Kurama. "You're late."

"What a nice greeting," remarked Kurama, grinning anyway. Inside, he felt both a fluttering of delight and a waver of guilt and apprehension. It was a curious mix.

"Come on." Hiei used the wide marble handhold as a step and mounted the horse easily. When the horse had shook itself a little, Hiei offered his hand to Kurama, who took it and mounted behind him.

As Hiei adjusted the bridle and reins, Kurama glanced involuntarily at the formerly white steps, reminded of his kidnapping the day before. His eyes automatically sought out the spot where it had happened before he glanced upwards at the tall doors.

He froze.

The wooden doors had just opened, admitting a very familiar figure and three or four less familiar ones. Even from the distance away he was, Kurama could still recognize Karasu. And it seemed Karasu had recognized him too.

Kurama squeezed Hiei's arm gently. "Let's go," he whispered urgently. Hiei looked up from his work and followed Kurama's line of vision. When his eyes lit on Karasu, Kurama could feel the angry aura flare up around him.

Yet Hiei hesitated, even when Karasu began to stride down the stairs towards them, and Kurama suddenly hoped Hiei wasn't planning a confrontation. "Hiei, let's just leave." He touched his arm again for added emphasis, and to his relief, Hiei pulled on the reins, and they galloped away from the building.

Once they reached a quieter side street, Hiei slowed the horse down. "Where do you want to go?"

Kurama shook his head. "Anywhere." The horse cantered the street slowly before Hiei, apparently having made up his mind, pulled on the reins again. Suddenly, they were flying down another road, and Kurama was forced to wrap his arms around Hiei's waist in order to hold on.

The scenery flashed by, white and black and brown, and Kurama thought of nothing but held onto Hiei tighter.

A while later, Kurama felt the horse begin to slow his pace, and he looked up. There was forest all around them, black-green evergreens with dark, snow-wet trunks, and untouched white snow. Kurama dismounted first, followed by Hiei.

The redhead stepped a few paces away from the horse, enjoying the stillness of the forest. Doubtless they had scared the wildlife into hiding with their arrival, but the silent trees were a welcome break from the war-ravaged city.

"What happened last night?"

Kurama's eyes widened, and he whirled around at Hiei's question, his heart thumping in his throat. Hiei was leaning nonchalantly against a nearby tree, but his expression was intent and serious.

"Why do you ask?"

Hiei folded his arms over his chest. "You know why. Yesterday you were so damn polite to him, and now you're running away. What happened?"

Kurama took a few steps towards the red-eyed soldier. "Maybe I changed my mind about him."

Hiei raised an eyebrow. "Don't even bother, Kurama. I want to know what happened last night at that party he invited you to."

Kurama let out a long sigh and closed his eyes. "Forget it, Hiei. It's not important."

"Liar." Hiei grabbed Kurama's arm when he tried to move away. "If it's affected you this much, then it goddamn well is my business."

Kurama shook his head, wishing Hiei's words had come at a better time. Hiei narrowed his eyes, not letting go of Kurama. "We're not leaving until you tell me," Hiei growled.

The beautiful redhead regarded Hiei, a sort of resigned desperation flickering in his eyes, before he moved forward suddenly and kissed Hiei, his eyes squeezed shut. Hiei, caught off guard, did not react, and Kurama wrapped his arms around his waist, drawing him closer.

And then Hiei shoved him away, furious. "What do you think you're doing!" he snarled.

"I…" Kurama seemed to abruptly regain his old composure. "Trying to get you to back off," he replied coolly, folding his arms over his chest.

Hiei sneered. "So you do it by trying to seduce me, hoping that maybe I'll be distracted—"

"I wasn't trying to seduce you," Kurama snapped angrily.

"—you're acting just like the harlot you claimed not to be." Hiei's eyes were full of contempt.

Kurama opened his mouth to retort, furious, but thought better of it. Instead, he turned on his heel and stalked out of the clearing, leaving Hiei behind as fast as he could. He ignored the soldier's startled oaths and plunged deeper into the forest. Hiei did not follow him.

Fury driving his steps, Kurama walked a long time before he finally cooled off and found himself in an unknown section of the woods. He sat down at the base of a tree and put his head in his hands, the bitter taste of déjà vu in his mouth as he recalled himself being in a similar situation last night.

When he had rested, Kurama rose and dusted the snow off his cloak, wondering how he was going to get back to the capital. He cast about for a way to discern which direction he'd traveled in, but before he got far, he heard voices and the neighing of horses.

Hoping that the riders might be able to take him back, Kurama followed the sounds and abruptly came upon the group of horsemen.

His heart sank immediately when he saw who they were. Soldiers of the Republican Army—one was a young man with short black hair and large brown eyes, and another was a muscular man with shoulder-length black hair and identical scars on the left and right sides of his forehead and cheeks. Kurama recognized him as Kibano—one of the generals who'd presided at his trial.

But what he felt upon seeing Kibano was nothing compared to what he felt when he caught sight of another man behind him with long black hair and blind eyes. Yomi. And if Yomi was here…

Sure enough, a horse stepped from behind Yomi's and clopped towards Kurama. The rider threw off his hood, revealing a silver mask and deep purple eyes. It was indeed Karasu.

Kurama stepped backwards involuntarily, suppressing the urge to just bolt. He did _not_ want to see Karasu right now, especially not when Hiei was around.

"General, are you…acquainted with this young man?" asked Kibano.

"I am," answered Karasu, never taking his eyes off Kurama's face.

The lesser general frowned. "You are aware he was a noble who supported the emperor?"

"He is a friend of mine, regardless of his political bent." Karasu cocked his head, directing his next words towards Kurama. "We were just surveying the grounds. Are you lost, Kurama?"

"No," Kurama bit out.

"But you need a ride back." Karasu extended a hand towards Kurama. "Come with us."

Kurama tensed. If he refused, he didn't know what the other general might do to him, but he definitely did not want to accept Karasu's offer.

Just then, there was the sound of hoofbeats, and the soldiers peered to the right of Kurama. Kurama did not look back, hoping against all odds that it was who he thought it was.

It was. Hiei reined his horse in quickly when he entered the clearing and glanced at the assembled people. He then urged his horse towards Kurama, and he paused behind him, his even gaze fixed on the rider opposite him. Kurama took a step backwards toward Hiei.

Karasu rode a little closer. "You have come at a very inconvenient time, soldier," he murmured softly.

Hiei's lip curled. "Much the better for me."

Karasu narrowed his eyes fractionally. "You would save yourself a great deal of trouble by leaving."

Hiei was not daunted. "As would you."

"Perhaps…" Karasu's eyes drifted towards Kurama before meeting Hiei's gaze again. "But it is you who ought to listen to me in this case."

"I take orders from no one."

Karasu smirked. "Not even from your commanding officer?"

"What are you talking about?" Hiei growled.

Karasu shrugged elegantly. "You'll find out in due time. You are not my primary concern anyway." He glanced at Kurama.

Kibano chose that moment to interrupt. "Is there something wrong, General?" His horse took a half-step forward.

The masked general raised a hand to stop him. "Nothing is the matter; I was merely waiting for an answer to my question."

Kurama cleared his throat, his expression determined, but his tone polite. "I'm sorry, but I think it would be rude for me to abandon my companion when he brought me out here." He turned to Hiei and easily mounted the horse.

Karasu inclined his head slightly. "Perhaps another time." He turned his mount around and returned to his party, answering their murmured questions.

As soon as Karasu had turned his back, Hiei pressed the heel of his boot to the horse's side, and it trotted briskly away. When they reached the clearing they had been in before, Hiei was startled to feel Kurama's arms slip around him. A moment later, Kurama buried his face in the crook of Hiei's neck and rubbed his cheek gently against him.

Hiei did not protest, nor did he reciprocate. The ride back was as silent as the ride to the forest.

When they reached the city limits, Kurama lifted his head and put his lips close to Hiei's ear. "Can you take me to the Unabara no Shinju teahouse?"

"Where is it?"

"Keep going down this road. I'll tell you when and where to turn."

Following Kurama's directions, the two young men arrived at the teahouse quickly. Hiei steadied the horse while Kurama got off. The redhead put a hand on Hiei's knee and looked up at him.

"I don't know when I'll be able to see you again, Hiei, but I'll try to get in touch when I can." Hiei nodded. Kurama smiled ruefully. "And Hiei…I'm really sorry."

Hiei raised an eyebrow. "For what?"

Kurama smiled again, a true smile this time. Since he was currently much shorter than Hiei, he grasped his hand and kissed the palm before letting go. When he turned to wave goodbye, Hiei had already started down the street.

Moments later, the heavy wooden door opened in answer to Kurama's knocking, and a maid ushered him in. "What can I do for you, sir?" she asked.

"Is Shizuru-san in?"

The young girl nodded and hurried down a corridor. Kurama waited patiently.

Shortly afterwards, Shizuru appeared, wearing a fresh kimono. "Kurama-san," she greeted him. "How are you?"

"Very well, thank you."

"Something I can help you with?" Shizuru scrutinized him carefully.

"Yes," said Kurama. "The offer you made yesterday—is it still open?"

The head of the geisha house blinked. "Oh—you mean my offer to make you into a geisha. Yes, it's still open."

Kurama took a step towards her. "I would like to accept it."

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

In the heart of the city, Hiei had ridden back to the Republican Army headquarters to return the horse. He had undone the gear and hung it up carefully, rubbed the horse down and fed it, and he was on his way out of the stables. As he made to leave though, he was stopped by a small parade of five horses, all led by a familiar brown-eyed soldier.

Yuusuke bobbed his head, unable to use his hands to wave. "Yo, Hiei."

Hiei barely acknowledged him, attempting to get by the multiple horses, but Yuusuke persisted. "Hey, what happened back there in the woods? Who was the guy who was with you?" He pulled on the bridle of one of the horses, causing it to stamp impatiently and block Hiei's path. Hiei gritted his teeth and continued to remain silent.

"Yare, yare, always so mean. I just wanted to know what was going on." Yuusuke moved his horses to the side. "But you know, you should watch yourself around Karasu, even if you do hate showing respect."

Hiei paused as Karasu's words came back to him. _"You'll find out in due time."_ He turned to Yuusuke, who was struggling to tie the reins of four horses to a stake with one hand. "Why?"

The other soldier looked up from his efforts. "Didn't you hear? Karasu's one of the big shot original leaders of the revolution. He started it and everything. I wouldn't piss him off if I were you."

Both boys looked to the entrance of the stables as the horses neighed, signaling the arrival of another person. The soldier's drab garb was a dull background for the wild mane of bright red hair and the bright blue eyes. The young man pointed to Hiei. "Oi, you're Hiei, right? General Kibano wants to talk to you. Says you're supposed to come up to his office right now." He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. "I'm s'pposed to take ya, so let's get going, okay?"

—to be continued—

Yare, yare- something like "Geez…"

Notes: One of the paragraphs in the beginning of this chapter was so hard to write that I must have spent two hours, off and on writing and deleting. At least it's all done now though. Oh, a little teaser: some of the objects and events in this chapter will come back into play in later chapters…if I can do a decent job tying stuff together.

One of the things that occurred between the writing of chapter three and four that made me happy was when I read **Beyond the Face of Fear**, my giftfic from **kitsunelover**. I was so worried that I wasn't portraying Karasu in an acceptable light, but after I read that, I felt relieved. Though I know that no matter how I write Karasu, **Natatsu** will still be pissed that he's alive and kicking at all. -.-


	5. Axletree, Turn

**Opium Dream**

Chapter five: Axletree, Turn

By Funara

Disclaimer: I recently found out that the title of chapter four—"The Shape of Things to Come"—was also the title of an H.G. Wells novel. Now, in addition to denying ownership of YYH, I also have to deny myself rights to the title of my last chapter. Life just isn't fair.

Notes: I'm working as fast as I can to get chapters out before vacation ends. Bear with me (and this short chapter).

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

General Kibano's office was located in one of the larger rooms on the second floor of the Republican Army's headquarters. The moment Hiei entered, he could tell by the décor of the room that Kibano was one of the higher ranked generals. As Jin bowed himself out, Hiei noted the blazing fireplace on the left side of the room—it had clearly been the finishing touch on a luxurious suite. Now, the only things that remained were the fireplace, a deep red mahogany desk and the creamy wallpaper—but the room was still superior to most of the rooms in the building.

The general himself was well-built and muscular, and the scars on either side of his face enhanced the look. His black hair pooled neatly above his shoulder-blades. When Hiei stepped in, Kibano looked up from his frowning perusal of whatever papers lay on his desk. Hiei moved to the front of the wide desk.

Kibano leaned forward. "You are Hiei? Of the fourth division?"

Hiei nodded.

"And you are also the soldier we encountered in the forest."

Hiei nodded again, careful to keep any expression off his face.

The older man scrutinized him carefully. "What did you and General Karasu speak about?"

Hiei stiffened. "That is a personal matter. Sir," he added grudgingly.

"Not if it smears the reputation of our regiment."

"It has nothing to do with the army."

"Anything you do in General Karasu's presence has to do with the army." Kibano leaned back into his chair. "Let me tell you something, soldier: you are a regular trooper. Karasu is the Republican army's highest ranked officer—as I'm sure you know, he is the father of this revolution and will likely be leader of the new nation. You are to treat him with the utmost respect. Anything less, coming from one of my own soldiers, is unacceptable. Do you understand?"

Hiei's expression was neutral, but imperfectly so. "Yes."

"And you will apologize to General Karasu for your behavior in the forest?"

Hiei's eyes and tone were icy. "General Kibano, I told you that I understood. I said nothing about complying." And he left the room.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Shizuru set the delicately enameled pot of steaming tea on the table, followed by a tray bearing two matching cups. She poured the tea expertly and set a cup of the hot liquid in front of Kurama. He thanked her.

Both of them drank quietly from their cups, warming their hands around the cups' exteriors. When Kurama put his cup down, Shizuru spoke, seamlessly carrying on the conversation they'd had in the hall when Kurama had entered. "Are you sure about your decision? It was rather abrupt."

Kurama smiled a little. "I know. But it was necessary."

"Really," said Shizuru thoughtfully. When Kurama didn't say anything, she prodded gently, "In what way?" She normally didn't poke and pry, but it was usually helpful to know what demons plagued her housemates sooner rather than later.

Kurama studied the leaves collected at the bottom of his cup. "Let's just say," he said carefully, "that besides the points you brought up yesterday, I also find myself in a situation where I need a secure place to stay and think things out."

Shizuru knew that this was as much as she was going to get. "Fair enough," she said lightly.

"And I'll earn my keep, of course."

She waved her hand dismissively. "There's no need to worry about money. I didn't start this place purely for profit—I intended to help out those who needed it."

Kurama looked surprised. "That's a rather noble motive for times like these."

Shizuru rested her cheek in her hand. "Maybe, but the things I saw, working as a lower-class geisha…" She shook her head. "I knew girls who scraped the bottom of human dignity to beg for business so they could pay for their room and board.

"So I intended this place to be a safehouse. I have enough money to cover most expenses. Those who I allow to live here have to have my approval. And then they can choose to work how they like."

"What if you get lazy girls?" asked Kurama jokingly.

The owner of the teahouse smirked. "Oh, I don't _allow_ lazy girls here."

Kurama laughed. "Then I promise I won't be one."

"Yes, but if you'd had that tendency, I wouldn't have offered you a place here anyway." Shizuru put their tea cups on the tray with the pot of now-cold tea. "Let's go upstairs, and I'll show you where your room is."

The teahouse was more complex than it looked from the outside, as Kurama had found out yesterday. Karasu's party had been held on the second floor; the wing of bedrooms was located on the third floor.

"The room you stayed in last night wasn't a formal bedroom," Shizuru explained. She stopped in front of a sliding door at the end of the hallway. "You're the only one in this end of the hall." She glanced over her shoulder. "You don't mind, do you?" Kurama shook his head.

The bedroom was simple, and similar to the room he'd slept in last night. A futon lay neatly folded in the corner of the room. Leaning against the back wall was a round bureau with a large mirror attached. On top of the bureau was a medium-sized metal basin. A small heating stove sat directly under one of the two windows in the room.

Shizuru left him to arrange his belongings however he liked, telling him that lunch wouldn't be for a while. "Do whatever you want today," she said. "You can meet everyone tomorrow."

The first thing Kurama did was to light a fire. The only belongings he had were his old clothes, which he placed in a bureau drawer. The placement of the furniture was acceptable, so there was no need to move anything around. Kurama took his boots off and sat down in front of the stove, hugging his knees to his chest.

The fire in the stove was a poor way of warming himself, he observed idly. It would take hours for the heat to fully encompass the room. The best way by far would take only moments, and it did not pose the threat of setting anything afire. At least not literally, Kurama thought wryly.

The warmth of another body.

But that was precisely what Kurama wanted to avoid. Karasu and Hiei—he'd only kissed—or been kissed by—either one of them, and already they were snapping and (in Hiei's case) snarling at each other. The situation was a potentially dangerous one—as evidenced by the scene in the forest—and Kurama's unresolved emotions only added fuel to the fire. He'd needed a place where he could keep busy and sort out his feelings, and although the line of work he'd chosen was a little too close to the problem for comfort, it was better than nothing. He only hoped that everything went according to plan.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Hiei strode through the snowy streets of the capital, his cloak billowing behind him, a black warning to anyone who might dare to provoke him. As a boy, he'd had terrible control over his temper, and he'd stormed through his village's snowswept valley countless times, walking and walking until he'd cooled down. He knew his twin sister wept to see him angry, and so he never returned home until his temper dissipated.

Thousands of snow-imprinted footsteps later, Hiei slowed. The street was familiar, and the ebony-haired soldier realized with a jolt that he was nearing the bar where he'd first met Kurama. He stopped in front of the heavy wooden door and pushed it open.

The place, viewed now in the sunshine of late morning, had the distinct air of something used and forgotten. The tables and chairs, which had been cloaked in shadow when Hiei had first stepped foot in the bar, were laid bare to the dreary light. Even the opium smokers had ceased to be mysterious dreamers and were now just old men puffing away at elaborate pipes.

Almost as if to recall the events of several nights ago, Hiei sat at the same table. But no beautiful crimson-haired young man entered the den; no rowdy crowd of men stumbled down the stairs.

The old lady materialized—she'd probably heard the door open. When she saw Hiei, she stopped in her tracks, but decided against accosting him. If she noticed that Kurama was not with him, she said nothing.

"What do you want to drink?"

Hiei continued to gaze forward. "Sake," he said automatically. She left and quickly returned with his drink.

Much had changed since he'd left here two days ago. Hiei's eyes narrowed, and he gripped his cup tightly. That morning, he'd been satiated with latent confidence. He'd pushed the doubts and questions to the back of his mind, sure they had no bearing on the present.

But Karasu had stepped arrogantly into the picture, and in one night, Kurama had swiftly changed. Hiei had not found out exactly what Karasu had done, but it was more the consequences that mattered, rather than the act itself. Hiei thought darkly to himself that he probably wouldn't see Kurama for a few days, at least. He raised the cup of sake to his lips and drank deeply.

The night Kurama had attended Karasu's party, Hiei had stayed in his barracks, thinking. He'd recognized the jealousy that had begun to nip at him as well as the possessiveness that had already begun to take hold. He wasn't surprised by either feeling.

After all, in the mountains, everyone was too wise about his past to even consider touching him. And perhaps, he'd thought, _that_ was why he'd pulled away from Kurama before he went farther.

All of those thoughts had been long swept aside, though. Hiei stared quietly into the golden-amber sake.

His dislike of Karasu spanned more than the fact that he seemed to be taking dominance in Kurama's thoughts. No, it reached out to include the fact that Hiei could do almost nothing about it—Kibano had been completely correct when he'd said that Hiei was compelled to show respect to Karasu. The masked general could order his resignation in an instant, and so far, Hiei had given him no reason not to. The republican soldier in Hiei remarked sarcastically that this was exactly how a democracy was supposed to operate.

Hiei drained the rest of his cup. Even with all of weighty pondering, he'd reached no conclusions. The only thing worth considering was going to see Kurama—but the latter had made it clear he wanted to be left alone for a while. And Hiei had no intention of disregarding his wishes and bringing more trouble upon himself.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

"We've looked forward to having you with us, Generals Karasu and Yomi." The speaker, a tall blond with shoulder length hair, raised his glass in acknowledgement. The others followed suit.

"And we are equally pleased to be received," said Karasu.

Yom raised his glass. "It has been a long road here, but we have persevered—long live the Republic!" The handful of men in the room held their glasses aloft, murmuring after the blind general, and then tipped their glasses back and drank.

Shimoji, the oldest of the generals present, leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. A bandage covered one eye, but the other one was bright and blue and currently focused on Karasu and Yomi. "Generals, I think I speak for everyone present when I say I am eager to hear your plans for rebuilding Gandara. Our beloved country, although free from its despotic ruler, is still in the clutches of ruin, and I would like to see it alive and whole before I die." He gave a harsh chuckle.

Karasu let Yomi speak, and the man outlined their plan to set up a trustworthy government and slowly rebuild the nation's economy. Lately, Karasu found, he had been "letting" Yomi speak more and more, rather than keeping silent when the other voiced his thoughts. It was a foreboding sign that Yomi no longer asserted himself diplomatically—had not, in fact, since he'd been blinded. Even before then, he had become quieter and more withdrawn, especially after the death of his son. Karasu was grateful that Yomi'd retained his prowess in battle—as long as he remained strong, he remained at his peak. And there was no need for Karasu to end their partnership.

Kibano, who was sitting to Karasu's right, tapped him gently. Karasu turned, and Kibano leaned in the murmur quietly. "I spoke to the soldier Hiei today and warned him about his misconduct. I apologize for his behavior."

Karasu smiled elegantly. "Thank you, general," he murmured back. The other general leaned away.

"What would you suggest as our first step, General Yomi?" asked a youngish looking brunette, eagerly absorbed in the conversation. Karasu glanced at the group.

"Pull out unnecessary soldiers," responded Yomi immediately. "Send them home—it's been a long war. And it'll show the people that the war is truly over."

The smile on Karasu's lips widened as the discussion carried on. Kibano needn't have worried about punishing unruly soldiers; Karasu had the means readily available.

Although, really, he had no intention of sending anyone away at the moment. War games were all well and good, but they left little room for the individual psychological exercises that were Karasu's favorite. He was fully aware of the effect he had on Kurama, and he wasn't about to spare Hiei the sight of Karasu openly wooing the red-haired young man.

Karasu intended to enjoy this.

—to be continued—

Notes: As this is an AU, I'm going to take a liberal view of Karasu's philosophies and tweak them for my own purposes a bit. I hope nobody minds. (read: **kitsunelover**) Kibano is way out of character, I think, but it doesn't matter because no one will remember who he really was in the series. I'll spare everyone the list of things in this chapter that are in need of bettering.


End file.
